This was edited a bit from when Istarted it. Hope that it doesn't offend. I don't own anything, never have, never will. Allons'y!
Fourteen months to the date after handing her three separate passports on rue l'Universite, Jennifer Jareau found her former teammate in Galway, a city in Ireland. Having been trying to track the woman down for a good two weeks, she was incredibly relieved to see her. Trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, she deposited herself on the stool next to her in the dimly lit bar. Without looking away from her glass, the former agent spoke.
"So, you found me." Emily said flatly. Suddenly unsure of how to proceed, J.J. scrambled for words.
"Nice job losing the tail, it took me weeks to find you." Emily simply laughed.
"I assume you've come to collect me now that Doyle has been taken care of." J.J. greatly disliked the feral look in the other woman's eyes.
"Your handiwork was quite impressive. The white tulip was a nice touch. But burn on the chest, really?" Emily had a full blown grin going by now, and the look scared JJ more than anything had for quite some time.
"Have a drink." Emily looked at her pointedly.
"I'd rather not." She chuckled into her glass.
"A'right, your loss." JJ caught a glimpse of something in the older agent's face, for just a fraction of a second, and what she saw there, she didn't like. Downing the rest of her glass with barely a wince, she pushed herself back from the surface of the bar in order to look squarely at the woman next to her.
"Jayj," she spoke softly, something else suddenly lighting her eyes. The blond turned to find the other woman stepping into her space, and surprisingly, she let her. She got into the blonde's face, making sure that she felt her warm presence against her body. Within seconds, she had a hand on the other woman's jaw, pulling her in roughly. JJ's eyes widened in surprise before she regained the ability to move and took a step back.
"What…do you?" J.J. struggled, breathlessly. The brunette smiled darkly.
"Well, there's not much else, is there? Doyle's dead. His backers are dead. His men are dead. My job is done. All that's left is…" She took a breath, eyes flicking down "distraction." That last word she whispered directly into the blonde's mouth. JJ quickly caught hold of the hand on her jaw and jerked it away. She inspected her nearly black eyes, realizing for the first time how heavily dilated they were. Suddenly, her thoughts ran clear. She's fucking strung out.
"Em, what are you on?" Her only answer was to laugh in her face. JJ stealthily slipped her hand into the inner pocket of Emily's black leather jacket, knowing that she would most likely keep any important item close by. She encountered almost no resistance when her fingers passed a tiny vial. Pulling it out, she almost didn't register the pure white powder. Shock overrode her throat, constricting her vocal chords and making her voice crack when she tried to speak. Emily snatched the vial out of her hand and replaced it in her pocket.
"What do you think you're doing? Are you insane?" Her only reply was that same damn smile, holding something new, feral, and vastly different from the woman she had known previously.
"I don't know, am I?" She remained standing right in the blond's face, staring at her uncannily. The way she said it lent to the simple fact that yes, maybe she was. She turned away for a moment, tossing two twenties next to her empty glass, and then strode out into the cool night. J.J. was barely even out the door before she was pushed up against a rough brick wall.
"Shit, what are you doing?" Why did she bother asking, she knew exactly. The smile on Emily's face twisted into something strange, and J.J. didn't know what to make of it.
"You ever think about it, Jayj?" She didn't get a chance to croak out a cracked 'what?' before the answer was provided. "Ever wonder, what it would be like?" With that J.J. felt the brunette's lips against her neck, almost starting to lean into the touch before she felt a sudden sharp burn as Emily's teeth bit into her soft skin. When she looked up, a trickle of blood actually ran from her lip. Through the sharp pain at the surface of her skin and the duller ache reverberating through her blood, J.J. managed to get a thought through. Well, yeah, who wouldn't think of it. And then; wait, what? This is Emily Prentiss. SSA Prentiss, criminal ass kicking, deceased, and dearly missed, as written on the tombstone, Emily Prentiss. J.J. couldn't work it out in her head, how the purely professional, nerdy agent Prentiss ended up here, strung out on coke in a seedy bar, running from a murder rap and violently seducing the only friend she'd seen in a year. And yet, how would she herself have reacted to the circumstances? So later, as she let herself be led up to her friend's dark apartment, she turned off her analytical mind, and allowed herself to simply feel. And two hours later, her wrists handcuffed behind her back, she rolled with the punches, quite literally. She let Emily hold her in place as she caught her in the jaw, as she rained blows on her chest, as she kicked her against the wall. And after, bleeding and sore like she'd never been in her life, she let Emily take her limp body, she gave it to her for the night, let her lick and kiss and bite. She waited until Emily fell into a sedated sleep from a premixed formula of dilaudid and prophynol, She waited for the dark silence to let herself cry, not for the pain, but for the person that had died, and for the person that had raised herself from the ashes.